


Bravehearts

by n_a_n_i_k_a



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 20:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15299604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_a_n_i_k_a/pseuds/n_a_n_i_k_a
Summary: In the summer of 1976, Sirius Black ran away from his home not realizing the consequences it would have for all those around him. Meanwhile Olivia Carter finds herself on the verge of unravelling a secret that might shake the foundations of all she's ever known. And Regulus Black learns that war has a keen interest in him, no matter where he runs.In which James grows up, but Lily doesn't; Sirius gives up and Regulus gives in and they learn that war was never kind, no matter which side you were on.





	1. Prologue: Four Years After

_"You may not be interested in war, but war is interested in you."-- Leon Trotsky_

There was a silhouette at the door, a shadow of the man she once used to know.

There was protocol, she knew, procedures she was supposed to follow in case of when strangers knocked on your door in the middle of the night. But he wasn't a stranger and she had never been really wise when it came to him. To either of them.

It took her a little while to get to the door, the world tilting unevenly under her feet in the darkness of the room. The thick black curtains guarded the windows against any moonlight but more than that, it didn't let anybody on the outside know of the life inside. It was a one room apartment, everything else of necessity smashed together in a haphazard chaos. 

She had let the room remain in darkness when she had come in; it had suited her mood then and it had felt better to get drunk in the dark alone. Now, she felt a faint shiver of nervousness overtake her. 

Which was all wrong. 

Because if it was who she knew it was on the other side of the door, she should have been terrified. She should have been running away, pronto. But she was still there, making her way to the door in small steps that didn't threaten her already precarious balance as she flicked her wand to cast a quick _'Lumos'_ around her.

The moment she opened the door, she felt blinded for a second by all the lights. She had forgotten life still went on in the night. It was so easy to become used to the dark.

Once her eyes had adjusted, they were drawn to the hooded figure standing on her doorstep. As if on cue, hands emerged from the under the folds of the robes--and there was that familiar and repulsive black twirl of a half-hidden tattoo on his left hand--and pushed the hood back.

He looked exactly the same. Those were the same blue-gray eyes that could hold the attention of any crowd, the same black hair pushed back in studied casualness, and the same mouth that could make her forget everything.

But he had changed too, she could see that. There were more lines on his forehead, his eyes weren't smiling with the amusement they used to, and there were bags under his eyes.

It didn't matter. He was smiling faintly at her. "Olivia," he said softly and there was so much in that one word that she refused to let herself drown in it.

"Regulus," she said, purposefully blank and harsh.

"How are you?" he asked, in that same soft voice of his, unruffled by her coldness.

"Do you have a death wish?" She said instead because there was no good way of answering his question. Besides, he must have known the consequences of what he was doing. Despite the late hour, he had knowingly come to her place and had revealed himself for the whole world to see. There was more than one way it could go, and none of them pleasant.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said, leaning closer this time as if sensing her anxiety. "Can I come in?"

Olivia debated saying no for a second and shutting the door on him because that was the best she could do for him with all the choices they both had made. But then she looked at him looking at her and for a moment she was that girl again, the one who had seen the world before it was torn into black and white, back when there were colors.

"Get in," she relented, checking outside to see if anyone had been watching as he walked inside. "You have five minutes. Be quick."

"I didn't know you had started drinking," Regulus said as she closed the door and she turned to find him staring at the almost empty bottle of Firewhiskey near the bed.

"Seemed like about time," she said. She didn't want to tell him about the funeral she had come from but more than that, she didn't want to know if he had had a hand in that death. "Talk."

"Is anyone else here?" he asked, looking around carefully.

"No," she said and maybe that wasn't the wisest thing, to be so forthcoming with the truth when she had no idea what he was with-holding and even less about what he had come to reveal but it was the end of very bad day and she just needed it to be over. "Your brother would be here soon."

"I'll be quick then," Regulus said and Olivia rolled her eyes. That's what she had been telling him to do in the first place. "I need to ask you something first."

Olivia raised her eyebrows at him, letting him know that he had come there voluntarily and she'd be dead before she gave anything away.

"I don't think you are in any position to that," she said, leaning against the counter; her left knee couldn't take more than five minutes of standing upright. She briefly wondered when she had gotten so old and realized she was just twenty. The last years seemed like centuries somehow.

Regulus chuckled. Out of all the things he could have done, he chuckled and she was furious.

"Get out!" she said, rocking back on her heels. The quick motion sent a sharp pain up her left leg but she ignored it. "If you are here to mock, get out."

He sobered quickly after that. "I thought I had five minutes."

"Well that was before you started getting on my nerves," she spat out. "And there's only four left now."

"I promise to leave your nerves alone then," he said looking at her like she was being beyond reason and it amused him. Olivia only huffed and looked pointedly away. "Can we start again?"

Olivia let the silence speak for itself.

Regulus sighed wearily before he continued. "My brother," he said. "You love him?"

"Merlin, do you honestly not get it?" Olivia yelled, enraged.

There was a hint of smile on his face for second--it was so easy to slip back into the old intimacy with him--but then the smile faded from his face and although it was blank this time, she knew all that was hiding beneath the surface.

"You do," he said softly, not accusing or questioning just stating what they both had known for a long time. Olivia felt disoriented with how easily he could read her, like he had never forgotten how to. "That's okay," he said, half to her and half to himself. "You've always had enough room in your heart for both of us. I just need you to promise me something this time."

Olivia swallowed, letting her frayed nerves fall back into calm before she nodded shakily. "What is it?"

"I have to do something," he said. "The Dark Lord he--It--," he started but couldn't finish, like there was something physically stopping him. It didn't matter though, she was done listening.

"How can you take his name and expect me to listen?" Olivia asked. 

"It's--" he took a shaky breath to steady himself before he could continue. "There's something I need to do." At Olivia's incensed expression, he powered through quickly. "Believe me, it's not what you think. There's something evil going on about him."

"You've just realized this now?" Olivia scoffed. "I could have told you this before."

Regulus smiled, looking reminiscent. "I wouldn't have listened then," he said quietly. "But what I know now-- I... I can't tell you. It's something I have to do myself but you'll see. It's the only way to end this."

"You're not making any sense, Reg," Olivia said, taking a step towards him. "What's going on? Why can't you tell me?"

Regulus looked like he wanted to say something but no words came out of his mouth as he wheezed heavily. "I--I can't," he said, finally giving up after struggling for a moments. "I took an oath. I didn't know then, Liv, I swear I didn't. Or it wouldn't have come to this. You have to believe me."

He looked beseechingly at her and maybe it was the fact that for the first time since he had come, he looked truly frustrated and broken that Olivia decided to believe him. She had half a mind to ask him to try writing down what he knew but she knew it'll be of no use. Magic had a curious way around loopholes.

"Can you tell me something?" Olivia asked, at last. "Anything?"

"I'm sorry," Regulus shook his head, his eyes wet. "It's very dark magic. But if I finish this, the battle would be easier. On more even ground."

Olivia didn't dare let herself believe but her heart was already racing. Was he coming back to the right side? To her? She shook her head; these were all dreams and there was far more danger down the road first. "I can't let you do this alone. It'll be dangerous. I'll come with you."

"No," he said, a little too quick. "You know that I can't put you in danger. It's all my fault, I need to fix it." He sounded so resolute, it broke her heart right where it had never quite fixed itself back together.

"Reg," she said softly, aware how pleading it sounded. "Please, don't do this. At least wait till I can talk to Sirius about this." She was crying now, silent tears falling down her cheeks. She hadn't realized when the tears had started but she was not surprised.

Regulus took a step towards her and they were only inches apart then, as he put a hand on her cheek, his thumb wiping away at the trail her tears had left behind. They had been inevitably drawing closer towards each other during the conversation and now that they were face to face, Olivia felt all the air leave her lungs. It was all horribly familiar.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in the space between them. "I have to do this. I just need you to promise me something."

"What?" Olivia asked. She couldn't bring herself to care about how her voice cracked as she had done so.

"Promise me you would give me another chance when all this is done," he said, a strange urgency in his word. "Just tell me that when I've done what needs to be done, there will be redemption."

And there was so much she should have said in that moment, so many questions she could have asked because some things, no matter how hard you try, can't ever be put back together. But it was the boy she had once loved, the man who had been her best-friend before it had all began and all she said was, "Reg."

"Please, Liv," he begged. His hand on her cheek was shaking but he made no effort to take it away or hide it. "I just need you to do this for me. Please."

It was in that moment she realized.

He hadn't really come back to ask for anything. He had come back to say goodbye because wherever it was that he was going, whatever it was he was going to do, there was no coming back from it. And there was nothing she could do to stop him.

"How can you be so sure?" she asked him instead.

"Because this can't be how it ends," he said so fervently that she almost believed it too. "We deserve more. There has to be more."


	2. Chapter One

Technically, it wasn't a celebration since there wasn't much cause for one, as Lily Evans liked to remind everyone. Gryffindor had lost the last match of the season to Hufflepuff, resulting in them losing the House Cup too.  

James Potter didn't believe in pesky things such as technicalities or caring for them. What he did believe in, however, was that any ordinary thing could be a cause to celebrate if enough alcohol was added to it. So, they brought in crates of butterbeer from only Merlin knows where and convinced even McGonagall to let them use the school-grounds for the party and somehow what was supposed to be small party for Gryffindors had transformed into an End-of-the-Term bash for the entirety of Hogwarts.  

The Hufflepuffs brought in brownies and marshmallows and Estelle was convinced that at least one of them had been baked in with dragon-powder. So, she decided to not take her chances and stuffed her face with both as much and as fast as she could. Twenty minutes in and she had rooted herself to one spot on the ground and was trying to convince everyone that the bullshit she was shouting was really their future.  

Mary MacDonald, after hearing her future to be full of lemons and kangaroos, had decided that a quick slap to Estelle would benefit both of them plenty. Things had only devolved into further chaos after that.  

The Ravenclaws brought with themselves music, and not just Celestina Warbeck slowly crooning about love or the Weird Sisters decimating everyone's ears with their guitar riffs, they claimed. They also had plenty of the Beatles and Queen. A space was cleared for the teenagers to embarrass themselves and for others to watch idly and jeer and to occasionally throw stuff.   

Alice Abernathy had already broken up with her third and last boyfriend for the month five minutes into the party—really, she saw no point in dragging it on when she had stopped feeling anything for him ages ago—and was now terrorizing everyone on the dance floor with her moves. After the obligatory, let's-dance-in-a-circle-and-have-fun part with her roommates where everyone had struggled to keep Estelle from straying and Mary from standing stiff like a poll and Lily from getting into a fight with Potter, they had all strayed off to do their own things.  

In truth, Alice only knew perhaps a grand total of three moves but what she really was an expert in, was making them work in her favor. It wasn't to anyone's surprise when she was soon dancing around with her own private cohort. Judging by how much she laughed every time one of the boys spoke something into her ears, Frank Longbottom guessed she was having great fun, too.  

About an hour later, when everyone had gotten far looser and more out of control, Mary decided she had had enough for the evening and dragged Frank back to the Gryffindor common room so she could talk about how all of her dorm-mates were an eternal embarrassment to themselves and the world in general and he would occasionally nod along. Lily Evans trudged back soon after them, pissed off at something and closed the door of Fifth years' girls' dormitory with such force that Mary and Frank had stared after her for a long second before bursting out laughing.  

It had all seemed well enough then.  

Sirius Black and James Potter had broken at least twelve fights by then, and had somehow miraculously, not been directly involved in at least half of them. However, their drunk brains had assumed that it was late enough for them to ask for a rematch and instead of a Gryffindors against Hufflepuff, everyone who could get their hands on a broom was soon flying over the Quidditch grounds. At one point, Peter Pettigrew's shirt had come off—which he couldn't remember if it was entirely voluntary or not—and was then used as a Quaffle.  

Remus Lupin, unsurprisingly, found himself rounding up the stragglers and forcing them to go back to their rooms. It was only when he was trying to extract Estelle from the tree she had wrapped herself around that she remembered something was amiss. It was probably around that time, as she was struggling to her feet, that Estelle remembered she hadn't seen Olivia Carter for as long as she could recall.  

Olivia, after the brief debacle on the dance floor with the help of the few Hufflepuff brownies, had left for the Black Lake to tempt the Giant Squid into showing itself. Nobody had seen her since.  

Remus, though suitably harassed and mildly buzzed, assured Estelle that her friend would turn up soon enough and upon Estelle's insistence on looking for her, he gave in. They set up on a search which at first included asking the remaining students if they remembered seeing Olivia to which most responses were "Buzz off!" and "Who?" So, they went looking in the Black Lake.  

For weeks afterwards, Estelle claimed that what she had seen had turned her off the Black Lake forever. Remus, who was given to less theatrics, reported that the two bodies had been floating on the surface of the lake, so calmly that he had at first assumed them to be simply swimming. It was only when he called their names that a giant tentacle propelled them towards the shore before disappearing again.  

Julian Debois, Ravenclaw and Head Boy, had been dead for almost an hour when they found him. It took Remus two attempts at breathing air into Julian's cold, clammy lips before he realized that.  

Olivia, thankfully, was only unconscious. It took her one of Madam Pomfrey's potions and twelve hours to wake up. And when she did, she had no recollection of anything that had happened that night.  

It irritated her to no end.  

* * *

"It just makes no sense," Olivia said, wearing tread marks into the rug. "Why would I not remember anything?"  

"I don't know," Estelle shrugged. She sat cross-legged on Olivia's bed, stuffing her face with chips. "Trauma, blunt force injury, temporary amnesia—take your pick."  

"Not funny, Elle," Olivia glared at her best-friend. "I'm trying to figure out what happened that night here."  

"I know," Estelle nodded sagely. "And I've come here with the sole purpose of not feeding your obsession."  

"It's not an obsession," Olivia interrupted.  

"It's all you've written to me about during the holidays," Estelle pointed out. "Which was frankly a bit annoying, to be honest when all I wanted to talk about all were the hot French boys that I was not spending time with because of my cuckoo crazy great-grandma. I can't have a crazy best-friend, too."  

Olivia threaded her fingers through her hair and pushed them back. Ever since June, she had been letting them grow instead of the usual trimming she used to do to keep them at shoulder length. Everything had seemed pointless back then with her mind always full of images of blue water—water that always seemed to be surrounding her, overwhelming her, filling her lungs and dragging her down with it.  

She rubbed a hand against her chest, sighing. "I'm just a bit worried, I guess," she said softly. "About what everyone would say. About what actually happened that night. I didn't even know him, Elle so what was I doing there?"  

Estelle put her hand over Olivia's. "It's okay to wonder," she said, smiling carefully. "That's normal. But one day, you'll have to realize that no matter how much you rub at the mirror, the picture isn't going to get any clearer."  

Olivia closed her eyes and thought of all the dots she had picked up over the summer and all the nights she had wasted trying to make something out of them. She thought of a summer spent avoiding her father and her brother and her aunt. She thought of the dread in her heart that she had felt over the countless hours she had spent wondering and wondering. She tried to imagine what letting go would feel like.   

Olivia smiled. "Your great-grandma really seems to be doing wonders for your brain, huh?"  

"It's been known to happen," Estelle shrugged, somewhere between embarrassed and delighted. "Now, onto better things," she said briskly, before turning to fix Olivia with an intense stare. "Like, why haven't you put that butt-ugly cat out of its misery yet?"  

"Hey!" Olivia protested. "Don't drag Mr. Buttercup into this! He's innocent."  

Estelle only gave her a pointed look before making the motion of putting a knife through her heart. Olivia rolled her eyes at her friend's dramatics.  

Mr. Buttercup was peacefully sleeping under bed, unaware of the discussion going above. Which was probably for the best because when awake, the cat had a penchant for terrorizing people with its claws and ugliness. Estelle had quite often and very fervently suggested that the cat was half-possessed, something Olivia always thought was a good joke.  

The cat, though ugly, with only patches of grey fur and its pointy teeth and two lazy eyes that always looked like fish-bowls, was a regular delight and comfort for Olivia. It got into fights, yes, and often wandered off to root into other people's business but Mr. Buttercup also knew how to be comforting when needed or exactly whose boots to piss into as revenge. Honestly, Olivia never understood how a cat could be so misunderstood.  

"He might as well be the heir of Slytherin," Estelle said. "Evil just rolls off him in waves."  

"Well, Reg seems to love him," Olivia said in hopes that it might win her the argument before she remembered—Regulus wasn't talking to her. He hadn't replied to any of her letters over the summer. He had left without even coming to see her in the Hospital room. Olivia was quite at a loss for what she might have possibly done to deserve that.  

"Still not written back?" Estelle asked, softly.  

Olivia simply shook her head. She felt the knot in her chest growing, felt it expand so much that her lungs had no room to go. She felt breathless with despair.  

"Well, that just proves it," Estelle marshaled on, sensing her friend's mood. "He has bad judgement and no common sense."  

"Elle..."  

"What?!" Estelle said. "He was wrong about the cat and he's so obviously wrong to not talk to you for whatever stupid reason he's got. Honestly, I can't believe he's my competition."  

"It's not a competition," Olivia said. "You are both my best friends."  

"Yeah, fine, whatever," Estelle rolled her eyes. "But I'm clearly better than him."  

"Obviously," Olivia smiled. "No argument there."  

Estelle smiled back in relief, pulling Olivia into a hug. "See," she said, against Olivia's hair. "This is easy. You can still smile and you are still defending your cat and that idiot. It'll be fine. You'll be fine even before you know it."  

Olivia bit her cheek and nodded. Somehow, she couldn't shake the feeling that nothing would ever be the same again. So, she tried to soak up that last summer afternoon with her best-friend as best as she could. They ate ice-creams and looked at boys. They swam in the local pool and ogled at the boys there. They tried dresses at the local store and thought of all the possible boys they could date that year.  

All in all, a very productive day for both of them.  

* * *

Regulus fidgeted with his robes in front of the mirror for probably the hundredth time. "You didn't have to do this," he said.  

Narcissa, who had been looking at him with patient bemusement, sighed. "Yes, I did," she said. She turned him around to face her and swatted his hands away from her collar. "You look fine. You need to stop worrying."  

"I'm not," Regulus protested, a bit too quickly.  

"Really?" His cousin said, raising her thin eyebrows at him. Even Kreacher, who had been busy packing his trunk for tomorrow looked up to give Regulus a baleful glance.  

"Well, it's not worrying, actually," Regulus tried to clarify. Narcissa only hummed her disbelief. "It's not! I just don't think it's a good idea for us to be hosting a party so soon after what happened."  

Narcissa gave him a brittle smile that he thought suited her mother more than it suited her. "It's not a party, darling," she said. "It's my engagement. One, which need I remind you, you seem to be keeping me away from."  

"Fine," Regulus relented, offering her his arm. "Let's go. But that doesn't mean I am not going to complain over your choice of a fiancé or the guest list."  

"Well your mother might have beaten you to it," Narcissa patted his arm consolingly. "But I'm sure there's still more noise to be made."  

"Noise?" Regulus echoed, feigning outrage. "What are we now, some common half-bloods?"  

Narcissa laughed, a small tinkling sound, and they descended down the stairs into the throng of the crowd. The Ancient and Noble House of Black seemed to be full of any and every witch and wizard on the continent. There were drinks flowing quite literally around and somewhere a singer crooned about devotion. The portraits in the ballroom watched with thinly veiled despair and interest.  

"Oh, Merlin," Regulus gasped. "It seems we really are."  

Narcissa clutched his arm tighter for a second as she said, "We adapt as circumstances demand, cousin. Remember that." Before Regulus could argue, she had let go of his arm and was already walking away from him. "Now go on and have fun. Don't make me set Bella on you!"  

Regulus shuddered at the thought of being accosted by his eccentric cousin and made a beeline towards the open bar. It all seemed a bit ridiculous—the alcohol and the caviar, and his family desperately trying to pretend the summer hadn't happened at all.  

"I would say the obviousness of it all is bordering on crass," Luka Zabini remarked, "but I guess no one does damage control better than a Black."  

Regulus smiled at his friend, taking a flute of fairy wine from the counter. "All the generations of experience with scandals was bound to pay off somewhere."  

Luka raised his own glass in a mock salute. "Still," he continued. "The double act must have hurt. Your brother—"  

" _My brother_  has always been a bit of a git," Regulus said, scowling into his drink. "It was inevitable he would pull a stunt like that."  

Luka chuckled. "What about your father?"  

"Didn't think it was any of your business," Regulus narrowed his eyes.  

"Oh, it might not be," Luka conceded. "But everyone's talking about it. Isn't this what all the fancy wine and party really about?"  

Regulus sighed. "Well, if it goes well enough, no one will be talking about."  

"Pretty savvy of you," Luka grinned.  

Regulus shook his head at his friend and grabbed another flute of wine. "We do what we can," he said, raising his glass in a salute. Regulus thought he might just survive the night.  

"I would be surprised if it wasn't all you do," interrupted a voice.  

Luka looked in the direction of the voice and scowled. "What do you want now, MacDonald?"  

Mary smiled, razor thin and dangerous. "Nothing you can help me with, I am sure," she said.   

Luka shook his head. He knew a lost fight when he saw one, and instead decided to put his focus back on his mission of getting blackout drunk. "Cheers, mate," he said to Regulus before downing a glass of wine.  

"You two are getting depressing," Mary frowned.   

"Can't guess why," Regulus shrugged, giving her the best approximation of his polite smile. "How's Longbottom?"  

Mary scoffed. "Better than you, I will say," she said. "And I'm not just talking about right this moment, either."  

"Right, right," Regulus said, before turning back to face the counter. "Well, you know where to find us when you get tired of pretending to be so high and mighty with him."  

Mary punched him in the arm and the glass in his hand spilled all over the counter as he yelped. "Oh, get your head out of your arse," she said. "As much as it might surprise you, I am actually trying to help you."  

Luka snorted from Regulus' other side. Regulus felt a similar sense of suspicion. "So, this isn't about you trying to lecture me about courage?"  

"Quite frankly, no," Mary said. Her lips were pursed and as Regulus continued staring at her, she raised her eyebrows at him. "I have learned my lesson. Courage isn't the Black family motto."  

Regulus thought of the letters hidden under his desk, that had piled during the summer and he couldn't help but nod in agreement. He wasn't in Slytherin just for the house colors.  

"Took you long enough," Luka sniped but quickly turned away when Mary glared at him. Regulus heard a cough from his direction that might have been him choking on the word 'bint'.  

"Okay," Regulus said, "I'll bite: what made you change your mind?"  

Mary bit her lower lip, thinking over her words carefully. "It's more of a who," she said.  

Regulus groaned, cutting her off before she could finish. He knew exactly where this was going. "Did my brother put you up to this?" He hissed. "Because I know, okay? I mean there's no way to not to know that Bella's a bit off her rocker—"  

"You can't seriously think that all she's spouting nowadays is just her usual bowl of nonsense," Mary argued.  

Bella had been trying to talk him into becoming friendly with Avery, a seventh year git at Hogwarts because she believed it would be a 'valuable investment' for their family. Regulus knew well enough to be perfectly inoffensive but at the same time non-committal in his response. So, his cousin was a bit ambitious and looking towards the future, he saw nothing wrong with it. He intended to be on the right side of History, too, when it happened. But Mary did not need to know what would never concern her.  

"So, it's a different bowl of nonsense," Regulus said. "Frankly, I am quite glad for Bella—she's changing things up, trying something new. You should try that some time."  

"Oh, you think you are so funny," Mary fumed.  

"If you like to think of it that way," Regulus shrugged.  

"We've known each other since we were kids—"  

"Yes," he agreed. "And I don't remember you being so high-strung back then. Must be all the time you spend with Evans."  

"Really?" She rolled her eyes as if she found his attempt at a comeback beneath even her consideration. "Well, I don't see Carter having much effect on you, and I think you spend much more time with her than I do with Lily."  

Regulus tensed for a second, the glass he had raised to his lips stilling as he stared at Mary from above it. When he did pull his hand back, there was a tightness around his mouth that hadn't been there during the entirety of their exchange. "Mary," he said in a low voice. "You should not talk about things you don't know shit about."  

"Oh, quite the contrary," Mary said, and this time her smile didn't even carry the attempt at being pleasant. "Four years of watching you hang pathetically around her should give me a well enough idea of what I am talking about, won't you say?"  

"Back off," Regulus said in the same barely restrained voice.  

"Grow a spine and maybe I will."  

Regulus's hand tightened around his glass. The room was suddenly too loud, too bright and it was only when Luka caught his arm that he realized he had been reaching for his wand.  

"Not the time," Luka said, looking him in the eye and shaking his head minutely.  

Just then there was a shock of brilliant blue light from the entrance and the crowd erupted into buzzing, moving towards the source of distraction. For a second there was a loud noise of exclamations of surprise and anger till Regulus saw his mother making his way towards the front of the crown. And then—then there was silence.  

Standing in the foyer was none other than Sirius Black, his hair windswept, his jacket slightly askew, and his face as defiant as the day he had left.  

"Hello, mother," Sirius said, in the hush of the crowd and the buzz of noises started again.  

"It seems like courage might be the family motto after all," Mary said, delighted.  

* * *

On a good day, even Sirius might be forced to admit that he was given to a few reckless tendencies when caged in for too long. Luckily, it wasn't one of his good days and he felt obliged to indulge in all of his reckless tendencies.  

"What are you doing here?" Walburga Black hissed at him, her teeth bared.  

"Oh, don't be like that, mother," Sirius said, enjoying all the eyes on them. Her mother was nothing if not brilliant at trying to salvage the family's reputation. Unfortunately for her, she had underestimated exactly how much Sirius was willing to risk to foil her. "I'm just here to give my congratulations. It isn't every day that my darling cousin gets engaged to a pompous twat."  

Walburga clenched her jaw so hard that he feared she might just crack all her teeth. It was only her desire to not feed the gossip that kept her quiet in front of the crowd. Her eyes, however, were furious and promised fates much worse. Sirius was beyond caring too long ago.  

"Sirius!" Narcissa said, making her way to him. She clutched his arm a bit too tightly as she smiled, "It's so nice of you to come."  

"Yeah, real nice of me," Sirius said. "Since apparently you completely forgot to tell me about it."  

Narcissa laughed, the only sound in the dead quiet of the ballroom. "I'm afraid it must have slipped my mind," she said. "But come on now, it isn't too late."  

Sirius knew well enough to be wary of the offer but nodded his head regardless. "You'd find it's never quite too late, cousin," he said, letting Narcissa pull him through the crowd and towards the ballroom. He glanced back at his mother, frozen in place with anger and winked at her. Two could play at this game of pretend.  

The party didn't quite recover after that; there wasn't any good way to. Narcissa tried to keep a leash on Sirius by keeping him under observation as much as possible but it was quite a difficult task with his mind bent on destruction. People whispered around them, gave them wary and interested glances.   

"Do you see what you are doing?" Narcissa hissed, hiding her face from everyone else with her hands. "You are ruining everything we have worked for."  

Sirius sneered, grabbing a wine from a floating tray. "Not quite yet," he said, downing his glass. And then he got to work.  

It would be unfair to assume that Sirius didn't possess his family's cunning to charm and persuade others. It was just that where his family used it to leverage the family name into more social currency, Sirius had honed it into a skill adept at destroying all that the Black name stood for.  

He talked with the half-blood ministry witch about his family's history of hunting muggles. ("Oh, but that was so eighteenth century. We have changed," he assured her with a smile. "Now we only drabble in torture.") He raved to a magizoologist about the delicious bowtruckle they served at Sunday family dinners. ("It was an off day for our elves, you know," he said, a little sheepish. "Normally, we prefer hippogriff meat." The other wizard had blanched and quickly excused himself out of the door.) He was midway through regaling a particularly colorful ritual his family engaged in on new moon to a newlywed couple when a hand on his arm stopped him.  

"Don't you ever get tired of the dramatics?" Regulus asked, his smile deceptively pleasant as he used the hand he still had on Sirius's arm to steer him towards a quiet corner.  

"Quite frankly, I thrive on it," Sirius replied. He ducked under a looming tapestry before they entered a secluded alcove. "Nice to see you again, brother."  

"I wish I could say the same," Regulus gritted out, now that they were away from any public eyes. "What are you doing here?"  

"Calm down," Sirius smirked. "I am just here to grab a few drinks and have a lovely time. Same as you. Same as everyone here."  

Regulus glared at him which made Sirius's smile wider. However, before Regulus could speak anything else, the tapestry lifted and Lucius Malfoy joined them.  

"I hope you'll be quite pleased to know that the magical enforcement is on its way," he informed Sirius with a sneer.  

"I haven't done anything to invite their interest," Sirius said all too innocently. "Or have you forgotten the law, Malfoy? It isn't breaking and entering if it is a party in your own home."  

"No, it isn't," Lucius agreed. "But it isn't your home anymore. At least the family tree doesn't say it is."  

"What do you mean?" Sirius said, narrowing his eyes at Lucius who was smiling smugly. Regulus, for his part, bore a painfully neutral expression and Sirius's heart sank. "She burned me off the godforsaken tapestry, didn't she?"  

Regulus looked down, his lips pressed tightly together.  

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, grow a freaking spine and speak up," Sirius found himself shouting. He grabbed Regulus by the front of his robes and pulled him forward. "She did, didn't she?"  

Regulus slowly looked up, hesitant. "Yeah," he said quietly. "She did."  

Sirius swore. He must have pushed Regulus because he was on the ground the next second. It didn't matter, though. Sirius could see nothing past the haze of anger and confusion. That is, until Lucius Malfoy spoke up from where he had been watching the drama with interest.  

"And now that you have assaulted people too, I think you should surrender quietly," he said. "It's for the best. I'm being extremely kind after the agitation you have caused my fiancée."  

And, Sirius thought, if he was in for a penny, he might as well be in for a pound. So, he punched Lucius Malfoy in his perfect little pointy nose.  

* * *

Olivia thought there should be limit to how much bloodshed and violence a person must have to suffer through. Estelle, however, disagreed as she watched all the gore on the screen with rapt attention. 

"It's being realistic, Livie," Estelle had said when she had tried to argue about the merits of watching the horror film so late at night. 

Olivia had barely controlled herself from pointing out that no, people didn't die from fountains of blood bursting out of their chests at random in real life but she had known the look in Estelle's eyes and in the end, had given up. Olivia might have asked her brother to join, too, but that little ten-year-old menace had seemed to been under the impression that Olivia had somehow been hiding his red ball from him which he had thought he had lost and had sulked off to bed. 

"No movies after eleven" Aunt Jo had told them strictly before going to bed. 

It was now nearing a quarter past eleven and both girls showed no will to move from where they had burrowed on the sofa, curled under a blanket with a tub of ice-cream that had been almost decimated. 

There was a man with a crude mask on the screen, waving an axe around as he chased people and Olivia felt her heart racing despite herself. He was only moments from figuring out that the blonde woman he was looking for was watching him from inside the closet when the telephone rang loudly enough to startle both girls. Estelle gave the ringing telephone an evil look till Olivia relented and picked it up. 

"Hello," she said into the receiver. "Who is it?" Estelle made a shushing sound from the other end of the couch, her eyes focused on television screen. 

There was a sound like a deep inhale from the other side, before a familiar voice spoke up. "Yeah, hi. It's me." And then after a beat, it added. "Regulus." 

"I know," Olivia said. Estelle only gave her the briefest of side-glances before going back to the movie. "Why are you calling me?" 

"Oh, sorry," Regulus said. "Is this not a good time?" 

Olivia scoffed, shaking her head. "That's not what I meant, Reg," she said and now Estelle turned fully towards her to give Olivia a questioning look. "I meant why are you calling me now, after spending so much time ignoring my letters?" 

"Yeah, about that," he said, his voice sheepish. Olivia could just imagine him dragging his feet around in circles on the ground like he did when he was forced to acknowledge his mistakes. "I'm afraid I've been a right git." 

"You can say that again," Olivia said. Estelle jabbed her with her elbow asking what he was saying and now it was Olivia's turn to shush her. "So," Olivia continued, after Estelle had given up on any attempts at dragging an answer out of her and was now just pressed very closely against the phone in an attempt to listen. "What changed?" 

"Nothing," Regulus said. "Much." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah," Regulus said. "A bunch of people told me I should grow a spine and I figured I might as well." 

Olivia couldn't help but chuckle at that. 

"What is going on?" Estelle hissed at her.  

Olivia only mouthed 'later' back at her before replying to Regulus. "Nice of you to do so." 

"Yeah," Regulus agreed, trailing off. 

Estelle frowned at being left out of the conversation and mimed pointing a gun at her head and shooting herself, falling from the sofa and crumbling to the ground in a heap of loose limbs. Olivia laughed. 

"What?" Regulus asked, suddenly alert. "Did I miss something? What is happening?" 

"Nothing," Olivia said, through her laughter, shaking her head at Estelle who was lolling her tongue out in an exaggerated attempt at playing dead. "Elle's here." 

"Trelawny?" He seemed to be frowning from the other end. 

"Yeah," Olivia nodded. "We've been bitching about you." 

"Well, I've been bit of a jackass," Regulus admitted, sheepish. 

"That's an understatement," Olivia said. It wasn't easy to let go of the disappointed and despair that had built in her chest over the weeks when no reply had to come to the letter after letter that she had sent to him. 

Estelle, who had managed to finally stand up, snatched the phone enough from Olivia to scream at it. "You deserve to rot in the depths of Tartarus, Black!" 

" _Elle_ ," Olivia hissed, taking the receiver back. Estelle only shrugged innocently in reply as if she didn't believe she had done anything wrong. "Sorry about that," Olivia said, before considering. "Well, not about she said actually. She's right about that. Sorry about the loudness, though." 

Regulus huffed from the other end. "Can she hear what I am saying?" He asked finally. 

"No," Olivia replied, shooting at a glare at Estelle who was pointedly keeping her eyes on the screen. "It doesn't stop her from speaking her mind, though." 

"Didn't say anything that wasn't true," Estelle commented and Olivia kicked her slightly to shut her up. 

"So," Olivia said into the speaker. "What were you saying?" 

Regulus was quiet for so long that Olivia feared he had run out of coins or forgotten how the telephone worked despite the numerous times he had made her explain it to him. When he did speak, his words came out in a rush. "I am sorry, Liv," he said. "It's just—it's been too much and I don't think I can tell you everything right now but—" 

"Fine," Olivia scoffed. "Tell me why you suddenly stopped talking to me then." 

"I, um, I can't." 

"Bullshit," Olivia said and Estelle seemed cheered by her outburst. "You can't seriously expect me to forgive you with such a shitty excuse." 

"I did say I am sorry," Regulus pointed out quietly. 

"And that changes exactly nothing if you don't tell me why you suddenly just decided to be an arse... unless," Olivia retorted. And then it hit her. What if—what if something had happened that night and she couldn't remember it now? "Reg," she said, slightly afraid of what his answer might be. "Did something happen at the party?" 

"No, Merlin, no," Regulus replied quickly and Olivia sighed in relief. "Can we just chalk this up to my temporary moment of immaturity and put it behind us? I don't want to stop being your friend, Liv." 

"Of course," Olivia couldn't help but give in. "As long as we can both agree that it is you who is entirely at fault here." 

"Fine," Regulus said and even his voice seemed to smiling to Olivia. "Fine. Really, anything you want as long as you are not angry at me." 

"Oh, I  _am_  angry at you," Olivia said. "This does not let you off the hook in any way." Regulus chuckled, apparently agreeing and Olivia laughed too. Really, it was so easy and she had been so stupid to be so afraid. She was about to tell him so when she saw her father standing in the doorway, looking disapproving. Apparently, they had been making enough noise to wake him up.  

"No phone calls after nine," he said. "You know the rules, Livie." 

"It's Black," Estelle said, not at all helpfully and Olivia kicked her again for good measure. 

"Yes, dad," Olivia agreed. "Hey, Reg, I have to go," she said. "See you tomorrow." 

"See you tomorrow," Regulus echoed back before the line was cut. 

"And shouldn't you guys be getting to bed now?" David asked. "It's getting late, girls and you do have a train to catch tomorrow." 

"Yes, Mr. Carter," Estelle said, before she left quickly, leaving the clean-up to Olivia as payback. 

"Great," Olivia sighed, picking up the melted bowl of ice-cream. She stood up to turn off the television when her dad took a seat on the couch and cleared his throat meaningfully. 

"Can I talk to you for a second, Livie?" he said. 

"Dad, I am sorry," Olivia groaned. "It really wasn't my fault, though. He called first and I couldn't just hang up, you know." 

"I know," David nodded. "That's not what I was trying to say. You are looking like you again today, and I am very happy. I promise it will just take a moment. Sit down, please?" 

Olivia cursed inwardly. She hadn't exactly told her father what had happened on that night but she thought he might have guessed from all the red flags she was showing all summer. Still, she had expected she wouldn't be forced to talk about it at the very least. "Fine," she gave in, sitting down beside him. 

"Now, I know this summer's been hard on you—and you don’t really have to tell me anything that you don't want to—but you should know this: I am here for you. Me, Jo, Luke—we all are," David said kindly. 

"I know, dad," Olivia said, her throat oddly constricted. 

"You don't have to suffer alone," David said. "And I know my daughter's strong enough for anything but here, I thought this might help." 

Olivia had been staring at her lap to hide how badly she was trying not to cry but when David pushed a small box towards her, she looked up. "What is it?" She asked, examining the wood with her fingers before prying it open. Inside, there was a silver necklace with a small ruby glinting in the pendant. 

"It, uh, it used to be your mother's," David said, his voice thick. "Thought you could use it." 

"It's beautiful," Olivia said. She sprang up to throw her arms around David. "Thank you so much, dad." 

"It's fine, champ," David said, ruffling her hair. He groaned when his fingers tangled in her hair. "You know, it used to be so much easier when you just kept it short." 

"I know," Olivia chuckled as she helped her father recover his fingers from the mass of her curls. 

"I like it, though," David smiled at her. "This suits you." 

Olivia beamed. They might have sat there forever if David hadn't remembered that it was actually nearing midnight and ushered her back to bed. In her bed, with Estelle softly snoring on the other side, Olivia knew that things had changed but she also knew that she had changed, too. She would be alright, she thought, her fingers curling tightly around the ruby on her neck. 

 

 


End file.
